


I volenteer

by FlyingFishWithFur, lasttoknow



Series: May the odds... [1]
Category: Hunger Games - Fandom, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Child on child murder, F/M, Fem Kili, Fem Pippin, Huger Games AU, Human AU, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, We have issues, We kill everyone, fem bilbo, so many issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-01-26 18:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12563588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingFishWithFur/pseuds/FlyingFishWithFur, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasttoknow/pseuds/lasttoknow
Summary: Some of our favourite hobbit characters forced to compete in a violent game that will leave one person standing. Bilbo Baggins and Dwalin Durin are two of this years competitors. The question is, who will make it out alive?Alternatively, FlyingFishWithFur and lasttoknow team up to kill the characters you like for fun.





	1. Chapter 1

“Welcome, welcome and happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favour.”  
Dwalin growled as the escort warbled on. Beside him Thorin shuffled awkwardly. She went on to discuss the mercy and kindness of the Capitol. They stood in the sweltering heat and waited for it to be over. A girl they’d never met was called up. Dwalin turned to face his brother. Balin had escaped the reaping; unusual for the son of a Victor. Fundin stood on the stage. Dwalin knew he hated mentoring all the kids. Some survived, but most were sent to the slaughter.  
The escort headed towards the boy’s ball. With little ceremony she pulled out a name.

“Frerin Durin” They all turned to the 14 year-old section. Reacting on instinct Dwalin covered Thorin’s mouth. He glanced over to his cousin. Frerin would need a brother.  
“I volunteer as tribute.” 

 

Bilbo was glad she had a hat whilst she was waiting for the reaping. Most of the sensible children had brought one; otherwise they would be a sweating mess. Like most of the younger ones. Her heart broke at the terrified looks on their faces. Their first reaping. She remembered her first. Her father had crawled from his sick bed to watch and she had ran to him afterwards. But now was not the time for reminiscing. The escort was walking towards the ball. A tight knot of tension wound itself up in her chest.  
“Ladies first.” Her hand lazily circled the names before diving in. “Pippin Took”   
Everyone swivelled to look at the tiny 11 year-old. She shook with uncontrollable nerves as she stared up at the large empty stage. Her parents’ cries could be heard in the ominous silence. She was just a little girl, Bilbo thought. With a family and friends that would watch her die as the Careers would slaughter her. Unlike her. No one to miss her.  
“I volunteer as tribute.”

 

Fundin was pacing in the justice building. His son, his youngest son had done something very brave and very stupid. Frerin had run to Dwalin and broke down in messy sobs. Thorin had been in near tears himself. And Balin, well Balin was a wreck and barely able to contain it. The last goodbyes were over and he and Dain escorted the tributes to the train. It was a moody silence that no one seemed able (or willing) to break. Finally, the female began quizzing Dain on the best ways to survive the games and he moved to sit next to his son.   
“What am I gonna do with you?” Dwalin lifted his head to stare at his father.   
“Help me win” That startled a bark like laugh out of the Victor. “Aye, I can do that. Dwalin” he turned serious again, “ya’re gonna have ta play the game. Get people to like you. Pull out all the stops in the interview. Ya’ve got a slim chance of gettin’ home and it’ll be hard.”  
“Right. Smile at the people who wanna watch me die and make them my buddies.” Dwalin growled at the thought of the frilly clowns who lived in the Capitol.   
“Yes. Ya will do it because damn it Dwalin I’m not takin’ ya home in a box.” Fundin sat with his arm wrapped around his son as the clock counted down on how long he would be with his son.

 

There was no Victor for district 11 so Bilbo and Sméagol sat with the escort. She was by far the most ridiculous woman they had ever met. Apparently she didn’t realise that children who spent most of their lives on the brink of starvation would eat like ravenous dogs. Truly astonishing that.   
“You two at least know how to use a knife and fork. Perhaps that’ll work in your favour. Now” she took a steading sip of wine, “since you have no Victor I’ll be acting as your mentor unless one of you somehow convinces a different Mentor to take you on as well. I would suggest getting a Victor from 3, 8 or 5 as they hardly ever win.”  
“Except when they do because they have Victors.” Sméagol’s snarky comment made Bilbo laugh. Quietly, because it was unlikely a Victor would mentor them and this air head was all they had.   
She at least had some pointers when it came to winning the crowd over. Smiling and waving made the sea of rainbow puke explode with joy. They were ushered past them to a car which took them to the Training Tower.   
The 11th floor was garish in the use of vibrant colours and shapes. Bilbo and Sméagol exchanged a pointed look; the Huger Games may be more appealing than staying here. 

Gritting his teeth Dwalin stood tall on his chariot. Apparently, mason workers wore togas. Even his father was having a good laugh about what he was wearing. Thorin and Balin would be. Frerin would be on the floor howling. Rather than sulk he looked around at his competition. Usually he was the biggest but the district 1 tributes; Blog and Azog his father had called them, and the district 7 tribute (Bafur? Befur? Something like that) were his size or bigger. The rest were scrawny underfed kids. Already the Career tributes were milling together. The other District 2 tribute (who he learned was called Gra) was chatting with Blog and Azog. As where the two from 4; one sounding like he had a fur ball stuck in his throat. Strangely, the male tribute from 11 was trying to get in with them. Possibly trying to survive the blood bath that was Cornucopia. He turned to study his counterpart.  
The girl from 11 was strangely well-fed, not like the Capitol but by district standards she was. Very short with curly blonde hair. She had noticed him staring and made her way over.

 

Sméagol was the worst suck up. The second he could he was trying to get with the Careers. All very big and very intimidating he looked like a mouse in comparison. Everyone else was sticking to their chariots. Self-conscious, Bilbo fiddled with the flower crown she wore. Dripping from it were apples and cherries and the whole thing made her head ache.   
Looking around again she noticed that the boy from 2 was standing alone. And staring at her. With little to lose she headed over.  
“Who has the worst costume then?” Her jovial tone made him jump slightly.  
“What?”  
“Come on, who has the worst costume, me or you? Because you’re wearing a bed sheet and mine is giving me a headache.”  
Grunting he looked hers over. “At least you’re decent.”  
“Very true.” By the way my name is Bilbo Baggins.”  
“Dwalin Durin” he tilted in half bow that she assumed was the custom from his district. But the name Durin rang a bell.  
“Son of Fundin Durin?”   
“Aye” now he sounded suspicious. Trying to turn the conversation to a lighter note she pointed to the boy from 4.   
“I think that one has a fur ball.” That had the effect she wanted and he chuckled.  
“Aye, and look at the pair from 9, I can’t tell which is the boy and which the girl.”  
“I think the blonde is the boy. I think.” The stood laughing until they were called to their chariots.

 

“Girl from district 11, Bilbo Baggins.” Fundin had been going through all of the other tributes with Dwalin after the parade. “Volunteered for a girl she didn’t know.” The reaping played showing a scared 11 year-old. It then focused on Bilbo; pain flashed across her face before she stepped forward. “Parents dead and no immediate family. Her parents took the ‘hooray we weren’t reaped’ a bit too far one year and 9 months later out came Bilbo. 3 months after that her mother was reaped. Father died when she was 13.” There was no need to elaborate on what happened to her mother. District 11 had no Victor.  
“She volunteered because no-one would miss her.” Dain added. “Saved a wee lass and,” Dain turned to Dwalin, “seemed to be friendly with you.”  
“Aye, nice enough.” Slouching he looked between the pair.  
“Nice enough could be a strong ally or a knife in the back. Ya avoided the Careers.” Fundin studied his son with a weathered eye.  
“Don’t want to ally with them.”   
“Well,” Fundin ignored the pile of enemies his son had just made, “ya need someone ta watch your back.”

“Sméagol well done! Getting in with the Careers will help you greatly.” She had been gushing like this for a while and Bilbo was tired. So she headed to her room and slept soundly. She had already figured that she should eat and sleep as much as possible now to ensure she had better chances of survival in the first few days.  
On that train of thought she stuffed herself at breakfast, before heading down to training. Predictably most of the Careers where smashing things with large weapons. She headed over to the fire starting section. Surprising, Dwalin joined her not long after. From there they went to knots and snares. They only spoke at lunch.   
“In the arena, do you think you can win?” Bilbo looked up at Dwalin’s words and mulled them over.  
“No, I just wanted to save that little girl. What I want is a quick death. Nothing drawn out. Just, just quick.”  
He nodded at her words. “11 is agriculture. What do you know?”  
“Plants. Medicinal, poisonous and edible. Berry, herb and tree based. I worked in the orchard and allotments. I should be able to know identify most of the plants.” She looked him over whist cramming some bread in her mouth. “And you?”  
“Fighting.” Well that wasn’t obvious at all with the massive muscles and scars.  
“I help you survive; you give me a quick death.” In any other situation that would be a morbid sentence but currently it took weight of Bilbo’s shoulders. A merciful death was all she could hope for in the arena.  
“Deal”


	2. Chapter 2

When training was over Fundin met him in the living room. “And?”  
“Allied with the girl from 11. Careers showing off but I spent time learning survival skills.”  
“Good, you stand a chance then.” That really was the only thing of note they said that evening. They spent the rest of the evening listening to what Gra and Dain were discussing about the Careers.  
During the next two days they learned new skills and watched the others. The pair from 9 were archers as well as the girl from 12. 9 were cousins and 12 siblings so they were bound to be allies. The Careers included Sméagol from her district and Bilbo informed Dwalin that “he wasn’t strong enough to lift a crate of cherries”, which apparently meant he was pathetic. He figured it was a saying from 11. Bifur from 7 was good with an axe and 4 was yet to cough up his fur ball.  
They were still waiting for it though.

When the evaluation came around Dwalin showed a mixture of how brutal he could be with duel axes and survival skills. It was what Fundin had advised; one trick ponies could be boring. So, when he got his score for it he was incredibly pleased.   
11.  
It made Fundin roar and hug him whilst Gra sulked (she received a 7). From there it was seeing who the threats were. Careers and archers scored between 7-10 whilst the boys from 7 and 12 scored 8 each. Bilbo surprised him. She had scored 10. He wondered what she had done. She spent the time learning new skills and her sword work was mediocre at best. Must have been like him and saved the show-stopper for last. 

 

11\. Dwalin had scored 11. Right now Bilbo was extremely glad that they were allied because otherwise she’d be terrified. Now it was just the interview and away to Hunger Games. Her escort seemed to remember at that point that she was there and she was meant to do something with her. Sméagol’s 6 was alright but not quite what the Careers wanted.   
“So, Bilbo, you could join the Careers with a score like that! You could do wonderfully! Oh, all the sponsors you’d get. Imagine being the first Victor of 11.” Yes, because that was why she volunteered; for the sponsors. Joy.   
The next day passed quickly. Before she knew it Bilbo was up on the stage being interviewed. Thranduil had been the presenter of the Games for nearly 20 years and very creepily hadn’t aged.   
“So, you volunteered.” Apparently that was the most boring thing in existence if his tone was any indication.   
“I did yes.”  
“Why?” he drawled.  
“Because Pippin is only 11 she didn’t stand a chance.”  
“And your mother was a tribute?”  
“Yes.”  
“So, being reaped seems to be a trait in your family. You don’t have a baby waiting for you back home now, do you?”  
Affronted Bilbo drew herself up to her full height. “No, no it is just me back home. I’ve been taking care of myself for the last 4 years and know better than to get myself pregnant.”  
The buzzer went and she fled to her seat. So the only things that were interesting about her was that she volunteered and her mother was a teen mom. At least Dwalin’s interview had been just as bad. He’d sat there trying to burn a hole through Thranduil’s head with his eyes. Before she could get on the lift someone grabbed her arm and pulled her away.   
Fundin? Why was he grabbing her? “When ya can ya run. Do not go ta Cornucopia. Wait for Dwalin at ta edge of the shelter but do not fight, ya won’t make it.” Without waiting for a response he turned and walked away. It was odd, but it seemed that as long as she was allied with Dwalin she had a Victor looking out for her. Neat.   
Her final night in the Capitol passed with a slight feeling of melancholy. For however short a period it had been home. Far more comfortable than the cupboard like room she lived in over the bakery with the rats. It had been lonely since her father had died. The conditions had not been much better but at least he was there to comfort or bring in even a little bit of income. It was pure kindness that meant she hadn’t been kicked out after he passed. Here, here though it was luxury untold. Food and hot water at a whim. A soft bed and people that tided up after her. Perhaps it was a blessing that there was a little bit of joy before they were all slaughtered. Or maybe it made people weaker. Get the tributes use to luxury and then toss them in a desert. At this point Bilbo figured she should shut her brain off and try to sleep. 

 

Dwalin paced in his bedroom. Try as he might he simply could not sleep. He was too wound-up to sleep. Around 1 am his father came in and sat on the bed.   
“I’d hope ya’d sleep. Might be yer last chance in a while.”  
“Aye, but I can’t.”  
He let out a long sigh. “I know. I was ta same when I was in yer shoe. Like a caged animal.”  
Dwalin grunted in agreement. There wasn’t much more to be said so they sat in the near darkness and waited for the dawn.  
Much of what happened next was a blur to Dwalin. In a ship, underground, dressed to go and then up the tube. The harsh artificial light hit his face, and the world snapped into focus. There was the Cornucopia sat at the top of a rocky mound. Then to the left was a mountainous area, whilst to the right was a wooded area. He sought out Bilbo’s eye. She glanced to the forest and he nodded. It was slight but all the time they had before the horn sounded.


	3. Chapter 3

Dwalin sprinted through the trees as the screams of the dying echoed behind him. He and Fundin had agreed that the archers were the biggest threat outside of the Careers. So he was pleased, in a sick, twisted way that he had taken down the blonde archer from 9. He had been able to grab axes and a short sword as well as two packs before he turned tail and ran. He did not want to be surrounded by the Careers.   
A thud made him swivel. The female archer from 9 had fired an arrow and it had just missed him and hit a tree. She fired again and he deflected it with his axe. Suddenly, a branch flew through the air before smashing her in the back. As she lay stunned on the ground, Dwalin swifty removed her head. There was no cannon; the fighting must still be going on at Cornucopia. Looking up into the foliage he saw Bilbo. She must have pulled the branch back to help. She jumped down and they stared one another in the eye. Silently, Dwalin passed her a pack and the sword before they began running through the forest.

 

Balin closed his eyes as his brother killed Legolas. It was quick at least. He, Thorin and Frerin sat on tenterhooks as they watched Dwalin grab supplies and run. What they could see, but not him, was Tauriel sprinting after him with a bow of her own.  
“Come on Dwalin” Frerin muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.  
They gasped at the near miss of the arrow, before Dwalin deflected the other. Against an archer Dwalin stood little chance. Let it be quick, let it be quick, Balin chanted in his head as he watched his baby brother prepared to fight. A branch flew through the air and struck the red head, then Dwalin took her head. A general sigh of relief was heard in the room.   
It was the girl from 11; Bilbo. She dropped from the trees before staring him in the eye.   
“Looks like Dwalin’s taking three down in the first day.” They waited for Thorin’s word to become true. But, he passed her a pack and the sword before running together through the forest.  
“What! Dwalin no, she’ll stab you in your sleep!” Thorin yelled at the screen.   
“I wasn’t expecting that, but it does explain the two packs” Frerin commented.  
“Yes, they must have agreed to this in the Capitol.” Balin thought about the girl from 11. She’d scored high on the test and evidently was good enough for Fundin to approve the alliance; Dwalin would not have done so otherwise.   
“We’ll simply have to see what happens” Balin said calmly. Thorin could scowl all he wanted; they couldn’t do anything but watch. 

 

As night settled they climbed into a tree. Dwalin wasn’t fond of the idea, but he could see the logic. Especially with the Careers on the hunt. He was surprised at how busy she’d been whilst he was fighting. She’d collected berries as well as catching a rabbit. They’d have to cook it either at dawn or dusk but they at least had something to eat. With time on their hands and little light they looked through their packs. Dwalin had: a sleeping bag, rope, crackers, water bottle and a large box of dried meat. Bilbo had: a medical kit, fishing net, water bottle and water purifier and a pair of strange sunglasses. These made her smile.   
“What’s so good about sunglasses?”   
“They’re not sunglasses, their night vision glasses. We used them in the harvest so we can work longer to collect food.” Now Dwalin could see the use in them. When they were on watch they would have the advantage. It was agreed that they’d save the dried food and instead ate the berries. It was a sad meal compared to what Dwalin was used to, but Bilbo seemed to be doing fine with it.   
The night quickly became cold as they prepared to sleep. The sleeping bag was just big enough for the pair of them and he took the first watch. The anthem began and Dwalin counted the tributes. Both from 3, girl from 4 (a surprise there), girls from 5, 6 and 7. Boys from 8 and 10 as well as the pair from 9. Finally there was the boy from 11. Sméagol if memory served. He wondered what she’d think about that. He wouldn’t miss Gra, but he didn’t know her. Had she known Sméagol? We’re they friends or acquaintances?   
“I hope it was quick.” Her voice was dulled from sleep. He turned to look at her but she had already closed her eyes and was trying to sleep. He’d let her. Nothing to be done really. 11 dead in the first day, they were burning through the tributes this year. 

 

Close to midnight Bilbo awoke with a start. A canon had fired followed by a hovercraft to collect the tribute.   
“Let me take watch.” She could have done with a few hours more of sleep, but she knew that Dwalin needed sleep too. So, Bilbo took the glasses from his face and sat up. No words were exchanged but Dwalin didn’t seem like one for talking.   
Her thoughts travelled to Sméagol. She wasn’t surprised that he was dead. The Careers had mostly kept him around for entertainment but she did mourn his death a little. He’d been from home if nothing else.   
Sighing she kept her eyes trained on the ground until dawn arrived.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter mostly written by FlyingFishWithFur! Hope ya'll enjoy because after this fluff we're back to murder. :)

When the first streaks of light appeared over the tree line, Bilbo cautiously clambered down from the tree. She started to gather wood to make a fire. As she was doing this, her thoughts returned to Sméagol. She hadn’t known him but she knew off him. His death wasn’t surprising, but it was still weird to think that that was it. He would never see another sunrise or see his family again.  
Would anyone miss me? The thought slammed into Bilbo so hard that she almost dropped her sword. No, you can’t afford to think like that. She scolded herself.  
“Something smells nice.” Dwalin called down from the tree, ripping Bilbo out of her thoughts.  
“It’s almost done” she called back as Dwalin, rather gracefully, climbed down the tree. “There are more berries in the bag, if you could grab them” Bilbo said without looking up.

 

It could be worse, considered Dwalin as he went to collect the berries, keeping a look out for any movement. As he returned Bilbo was just cutting up the rabbit. She handed him a piece. “So what now?” she asked.  
“What do you mean?” Dwalin tilted his head as he studied her.  
“Where do we go from here? We can’t stay here, obviously. But where do you want to go?”  
“I don’t know. We can stay here for the moment at least, it is reasonably safe and there is nobody close by”, still, after saying that he studied the surrounding area.  
“I know that. But after we have eaten we have to move on.”  
So they did eat, and after filling their stomachs for what could be the last time, they set off. They walked in silence for several hours before Dwalin broke the it.  
“What was your life like back in district 11?”  
Shocked, Bilbo considered the question before answering. “Well after my dad died, I had to get a job and move out of our home. I couldn’t afford to keep it. So, I moved in to a small apartment. It was just above a bakery, so I would wake up to the smell of freshly baked bread. It was small but it was home. I barely made enough money to keep it though. I think the bakers let me keep it because they felt sorry for me. What about you? I bet your life was a lot better than mine.”  
“Not really. I mean we had a nice house, it wasn’t too big. But then again anything more than a couple of rooms is big. I lived with my Dad, brother and two cousins. It was nice, but we were trained for this since I can remember. So life wasn’t that great.”  
“It sounds a lot better than my life though.” Bilbo knew family wasn’t always wonderful, but he spoke with a hint of pride when talking about them. But she didn’t want to alienate him.  
“Ha-ha. So neither of has had a nice cushy life then.”

 

“Are they going to walk and chat all day?!” Frerin exclaimed. “They’re worse than a pair of old ladies.”  
“He’s not stupid. He wouldn’t be chatting if they were in immediate danger. And she looks like she knows what she is doing as well” Thorin retorted.  
They had just sat there and watched the screen mainly in silence, for most of the night. They only slept when Balin sent his cousins off to bed. Someone had to be responsible whilst Fundin was away.  
Balin just sat there is silence, eyes never leaving the screen. He worried continuously for his brother. He shouldn’t be there. And he still didn’t trust Bilbo. He didn’t understand why they were working together. And what happened if they got to the end. It was all well and good guessing what was going on in his brother’s head, but it would always be a hard venture. This girls though, was a different enigma entirely. She could turn against him at any moment and Balin would be unable to do anything but watch as his little brother died. At least she was taking care of him at the moment.

 

The rabbit had actually tasted okay, Dwalin thought as they got up and scattered the remains of the fire. Bilbo wrapped the leftovers in a rag she had acquired at some point. As they trudged through the forest, he kept a constant look out. Every so often Bilbo would tap him on the shoulder and motion for him to stay still. Then she would just stop, listen, look around and then just continue walking.  
The first time she stopped him, he assumed that she had heard something. Adrenalin pumped through his body and he was ready to attack anything that moved. But nothing did. Then Bilbo just continued walking.  
On about the fourth time Bilbo stopped she ran off into the woods. Dwalin thought that that was it. She had abandoned him to die. But he was proved wrong a couple of minutes later when she returned with a freshly killed rabbit. He didn’t know how she did it but he was glad that she was around. He would not have been able to catch it if he was by himself.  
After what felt like a few hours, Dwalin stomach started to grumble. He decides to break the comfortable silence they had fallen into. “So when do you want to stop for something to eat?”  
“When we are in a safer location.” A fair response, but Dwalin’s stomach protested.  
“We are in the hunger games. We are never going to be safe. Why don’t we walk for a bit longer and stop by the river that just through those trees.”  
“That sounds like a plan.”

They continued walking for a bit, heading towards the roaring river. The river was further away than he had said, Dwalin complained to himself. He was looking forward to sitting down and eating while they weren’t in too much danger.  
Once they got to the river, they sat down on and Bilbo took out a few of the berries and the rest of the dried meat. It wasn’t much; but as it was still light they couldn’t afford to make a fire, encase anyone spotted the smoke. “Why did you volunteer?” Bilbo asked out of the blue.  
“I couldn’t let Frerin come here. His brother would have volunteered, ta lose one is ta lose the other. They need each other. Balin can survive if I die. Cruel prahaps, but true enough.”  
“Was it really as simple as that?” She studies him and he wonders what she could be thinking anout all of this.  
“Yeah, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t volunteer for him. Why did you volunteer?”  
“I’ve already told you. I have no one and Pippin had everything to lose, she was only 11.”  
“Well it could be worse. At least it was our choice.” She hums in agreement.  
After that comment they fell back into silence while they ate. It was peaceful sat there beside the river.  
“It’s nice here, you can almost escape.” Dwalin said, wistfully as he finished off his meat, voicing his thoughts.  
“Yeah it’s nice. I wish we could stay here longer. But we’ve got to get going.”  
“Not yet. We are safe for the moment. And we need a break. We’ve been walking for a good few hours, and we haven’t heard anyone since yesterday. We should be fine for at least another few minutes”  
“Right” she stops preparing to leave and settles next to him. “I suppose it’s nice to stop for a while.”  
“Defiantly. Anyway it has been bugging me. Why did you keep stopping when we were walking? I didn’t hear anything”  
“I was listening for rabbits or something else we can eat, and looking for fruit. I wasn’t very successful.”  
“Are you kidding me, you caught a rabbit. That’s not half bad.”  
“It was nothing. “ She sounded bashful about it.  
“It was impressive.” He didn’t know why she didn’t just take the compliment, maybe she was unused to it.  
With that they packed up their stuff, and left their quiet little spot by the river to continue their trek into the forest. Keeping an eye out for any unwanted visitors.


	5. Chapter 5

There were howls and hoots approaching quickly, echoing and bouncing through the trees. As fast as possible they sprinted in the opposite direction. Dwalin growled as a spear flew between himself and Bilbo. Yanking it out the ground he threw it back in the wild hopes of hitting one. The lack of pained screams told him that there was still a full pack of Careers behind him. He was surprised to see Bilbo in front; despite her small stature she had plenty of speed. Yet she came skidding to a stop by the river edge. It was far too dangerous to risk crossing; he’d rather a quick sword to the gut than a slow drowning. 

So they turned, and faced the pack. There were two vicious looking males in front; tall with scars criss-crossing their faces; and two females holding the back. Dwalin exchanged a look with Gra. If there was any regret at this turn of events she did not show it. 

If anything, her face showed some form of manic glee. Perhaps at the idea of taking a Victor’s son down, and the glory that it would bring, was a wonderful prospect. Even if they had come from the same District. If she killed him, he hoped she could face his father, and Thorin. Could luck with the latter. 

It seemed that the Careers were out for blood as they quickly lunged for Dwalin. He was unsure that they could be called swords, jagged messes of tortured metal, came spiralling towards him. Ducking and cursing he parried both before kicking Gra in the stomach. She stumbled a few paces back before turning to parry and strike. The males also returned, wildly slashing and stabbing. He cursed louder as they forced him back and forced him onto his knees.

 

“Dwalin!” Frerin leapt towards the screen reaching out for a cousin he would never touch. Balin had instinctively grabbed Thorin’s hand and he had given it a comforting squeeze. But he was sweating. Dwalin was down on his knees. He still had his weapons in his hands, barely defending himself, but there was no chance to get up. Then, Azog from District One wrenched an axe from his hands. 

“Nooo…” The most broken sound escaped Balin’s lips as he saw his little brother desperately trying to reach for his axe whilst blocking a vicious swing from Blog from District Two. Just as Gra (traitorous bitch) went in for the kill.

Then for the second time, they were surprised as Bilbo jumped into the screen. The letter opener slashed Gra’s shoulder before blocking Azog’s sword. The few seconds of exchange brought Dwalin enough time to retrieve his axe and stand. Turning they switch and Dwalin slams his axe into Kalisies’ side. Blood seeps from her wound as she chokes on more scarlet. She collapsed, quickly followed by the boom of the cannon. 

 

Bilbo stumbled as she blocked the girl’s (Gra her mind added, Dwalin’s counterpart) tried to get past her defence. Glancing to the side she noticed that the three other Careers had surrounded Dwalin. She gasped as he sunk to his knees. Gra also saw this and lunged to attack him. She saw red. How dare they! Four on one! Outrageous behaviour! She dived to get between Dwalin and his attackers. She blocked, desperately trying to buy Dwalin some time. She even landed a hit on Gra. Then Dwalin swerved around her and she moved to give him some room. With a sick fascination she watched as she chocked on her blood, collapsing onto the floor before a cannon announced her death. 

With this the other Careers seemed to lose their nerve and began to flee. She glanced over at Dwalin as she gasped for breath. Dwalin also took the chance to enjoy lungful’s of air. Once the heavy breathing had subsided they began checking for injuries. By some miracle they had escaped the ordeal with only a few scrapes and bruises, but she put ointment on them just in case. Who knew what had been on those weapons. 

Dwalin allowed the fussing with good humour before returning the favour. She was surprised at how gentle he was with her injuries. Neither of their eyes strayed to the body by their feet, but Dwalin snatched the bag before they left. They remained in silence as they found a safe part of the river to cross and a dense willow to camp in.   
Bilbo actually enjoyed the quiet after the reverberating noises of weapon clashing. The crackling of the fire was comforting, both in noise and temperature; the nights have turned bitter. Bilbo whimpers as it is put out, necessary but so damn cold. Trying to find the best position for sleep, she squeaks as Dwalin pulls her closer and she lies there, quite warm, and with her head tucked into the crook of Dwalin’s neck whilst he takes first watch. She drifts off before the District One girl is projected, safe and warm.


	6. Chapter 6

Bilbo woke with a start. Had she heard something or was it just her mind playing tricks on her. The events of the day before weighted heavily on her mind. That was another person she had had a hand in killing. How many more, would she have to help Dwalin kill or maybe even kill, before this nightmare was over.  
She shifted slightly, forgetting that Dwalin was huddled against her back. He groaned at her telling her that he was awake as well now. “I thought I heard something.” Bilbo said getting up.   
Just as she got to her feet, a small male with an axe sticking out of his head barrelled into her, knocking her to the ground.

Dwalin, working on instinct grabbed his axes and was on his feet within seconds deflecting the attacker’s strike with his boar spear. He swung again. Wow he’s fast with that thing, Dwalin thought as he blocked blow after blow as he was pushed back. He aimed a vicious blow at Dwain’s head and it would have connected if Bilbo hadn’t blocked the blow with her sword. This gave Dwalin a chance to gain his footing. They stood side by side throwing attack after attack, pushing him back. The sound of clashing weapons filled the forest.   
He was getting tired Dwalin noticed as he landed a blow against his legs. His axe burring itself deep into his leg, defiantly damaging the muscles. Bifur dropped to the ground with a cry bringing his spear around. Dwalin swung his axe around and brought it down on his head connecting with the axe already in his head, just as a spike of white hot pain shot through his side. He thought he heard Bilbo scream.   
Both men collapsed.

 

“Dwalin!” Thorin and Ferin cried, as they watched their cousin fall, knowing there was nothing they could do to save him. Barlin started chanting ‘Please don’t be dead.’ under his breath. A pray to anyone that would listen. All three of them sat their hugging each other as their world caved in around them.   
Then the single cannon blast sounded. “Only one. He’s still alive!” Ferin said with hope.   
“But he’s not out of the woods yet.” Balin added, fear palpable in his tone.

 

All Bilbo could do was watch as Bifur’s spear plunged into Dwalin’s stomach. She didn’t even see Bifur go down, all she could think about Dwalin lying there unmoving.  
“No, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to be how it ends. You were meant to survive.” Bilbo said, as she rushed over to Dwalin. He was unconscious, but breathing. Bifur’s spear luckily hadn’t done too much damage. But there was no telling where the spear had been. Bilbo decided that it would probably do less damage if she took out the spear, as she would have to move Dwalin. Bilbo ripped one of the bags into strips, transferring all the supplies into the other two and took out the medical kit. “I’m sorry this is going to hurt” she said, as she pulled the spear out. She threw the hateful thing into the trees; hopefully she would never have to see it again. Then she poured some antiseptic onto the nasty looking wound and wrapped it in some of the strips. That would have to do until she had a chance to find somewhere safer.  
Bilbo picked up Dwalin’s legs and started to drag his unconscious body deeper into the forest and closer to the river. Her thoughts were consumed with keeping Dwalin safe and alive. He deserved a chance to live.   
She walked, dragging Dwalin for what felt like few hours, but she had to stop every few minutes or so, as he was both bigger and heavier than she was. Finally she found a small cave on the banks of the river. It was protected enough that it would be hard to see, but she had a good view in every direction encase anyone came close. She placed Dwalin in the sleeping bag and had a look at the wound. It had become an interesting colour. Taking a shuddering breath, Bilbo began examining the wound. The med kit had enough to deal with the infection if it went away quickly. If not, she would have to find the necessary herbs. For now, she would stay and monitor him, hoping to whatever there was that he didn’t have a fever.   
He developed a fever.   
Bilbo struggled to keep his temperature down using water from the river. She never left his side for more than five minutes at a time. Her eyes never left him. This is all my fault. I should have done more in the fight. Then maybe he would be ok, she thought. A part of her argued that it irrational, but it was buried under far too much guilt to be heard. Finally night came, Bilbo was exhausted and she decided it was safe enough to sleep. She climbed into the sleeping bag next to Dwalin and curled up next to him. She wasn’t going to let him die, she promised herself.  
This pattern would continue over the next few days. Bilbo would take care of Dwalin during the day and curl up beside him to sleep at night. On the third day he was conscious for long enough to eat. But his improvement was slow. His fever had gone down but the wound wasn’t healing as quickly as Bilbo would have liked.

 

Having watched Bilbo take care of Dwalin over the past few days, Balin, Thorin and Ferin had decided that they liked her. They had cheered when Dwalin had had something to eat, as it was a sign he was recovering. Balin decide not to say how bad everything could still go. He didn’t want to crush his cousins’ hopes. But he still worried for his little brother and was glad he had someone to look after him. The girl from their district had abandoned him at the first chance she got. But this stranger was risking her life to take care of him. Balin was thankful that Bilbo was there with Dwalin.

 

A couple of days later Dwalin had improved enough that Bilbo felt it would be ok to venture further afield. This gave her the chance to top up their dwindling supplies. On her way back she heard a rustle in the bushes. She froze. But as there were no other signs of movement, she put it down to her frayed nerves and continued back to their camp.  
It was a few hours later before she heard it again. Bilbo was just outside the cave at the river collecting water. This time she was sure she had heard something. She placed her had on her sword.   
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her and Bilbo spun around and swung her sword, slicing through her neck. The girl that stood in front of her couldn’t have been much older than she was. She swayed for a bit with a confused expression on her face before she slumped to the ground, dead.   
Bilbo’s hands shook as she dropped her bloodied sword in time with the cannon going boom.   
“Kili!” came the strangled cry from further down the river.


	7. Chapter 7

Dwalin came to with a groan. He often did, but this time there was no soothing hand on his arm, and no murmurs that it was going to be alright. Bilbo wasn’t here. There was no one present. Dwalin tried to keep the rising panic contained. She had gone out for supplies. He spent most of his time asleep, of course she wouldn’t always be around when he woke up. She was fine. Absolutely fine. If anything she should have cut her losses and left him. It would have been what anyone else had done. If not for Bilbo the wound would have been a death sentence. Why had she kept the deal when she should have gone? 

A scream echoed through the trees far too close for comfort. A familiar scream, a voice that didn’t scream but sang songs and chatted about the most mundane things when he drifted out of sleep. And a canon followed the scream. 

No.

No no no no no no no…

Not like this. 

Without thought Dwalin grabbed his axes and staggered out of the cave. Crashing through trees and undergrowth he didn’t even notice the agony at his side. Just the clanging of metal hitting metal. It meant fighting. It meant that she could still be alive. It was with the briefest sigh of relief that when he burst into the clearing he saw her fighting, barely holding on. There was a spray of blood coating her. The blonde above her was trying to hack her into several pieces and there was a dead body but right now Bilbo was alive. She stumbled. The moment she fell was the moment the blonde pressed his advantage. And the moment Dwalin surged forward and buried his axes into him. The canon roared as the lad fell. 

“Bilbo?” he was quite as he kneeled. Her eyes were wide with shock. “Bilbo, look at me.” Slowly she did. Dwalin growled before grabbing their belongings, the girl’s pack and then Bilbo. The adrenaline was fading and pain was quickly making itself known. The cave felt like an age away, yet they finally he made it, dropped their stuff and cradled Bilbo in his lap.   
It was a long while later before she spoke in a weak voice. “I didn’t mean to.”   
“Didn’t mean to what?”  
“Kill her. I’ve helped you kill, I’ve defended myself but I hadn’t, she just startled me and I swung my sword, and… and” Dwalin watched as the tears dripped down her face. Her first kill. With everything it was him that had delivered the final blow. And she hadn’t even meant to kill the lass. An accident more than anything. But what idiot startled an armed someone in the Hunger Games?  
He wasn’t good with words, he knew this. So he just pulled her closer and let her cry herself to sleep. 

 

When Kili startled Bilbo, Frerin had jumped with her. And they had all winced when the sword swung through Kili’s neck. But it was the look of horror on Bilbo’s face that was devastating. She hadn’t meant to do it.  
“What did she expect, walking up behind someone at this point in the games? Bilbo’s been on edge all week because of Dwalin!”   
“Fili and Kili were desperate for an alliance though”, Balin murmured. “And Fili isn’t going to let Bilbo go.” 

And true to his words Fili began attacking with violent precision. Bilbo was purely defensive and losing ground rapidly. The screen split and Thrandiul was commenting on Dwalin. His brother was desperately trying to get to Bilbo. The lazy commentary on whether he was going to get there was rather unhelpful. 

When Dwalin caught up to the fight he very quickly ended it. Bilbo, Bilbo looked to be in some form of shock. Watching Dwalin being gentle was heart breaking. He shouldn’t be gentle, there was no gentle in the Hunger Games. The footage was quickly cut to show the bloodbath that was the Careers cutting through a band of tribute. It was a sudden cut, perhaps Bilbo and Dwalin were boring, but he thought that instead they were supporting one another; co-operation to that extent was greatly frowned upon. If the pair weren’t so damn popular then Balin was sure the game makers would have been after them.  
Frerin winced as a ginger boy, Gimli his mind supplemented, stood tall and proud as he was surrounded and killed. This was the sick part of the Hunger Games, making you care only to watch people you never met die. Learn what they were like, what they feared. The Capitol saw them as shiny attractions, but they were kids, the Districts saw them as kids. Their kids. 

They’d never met Bilbo but they sure as hell didn’t want her to die. But she was going to. That was her and Dwalin’s deal. Dwalin was healing quickly and the Careers were coming.   
The screen cut back to Dwalin and Bilbo. They were huddled in the sleeping bag back in the cave. Bilbo seemed to be asleep draped across Dwalin. Who pressed a kiss into her hair.   
Their jaws dropped.   
“Well”, Thrandiul drawled, “looks like he’s gone and gotten attached.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is lasttoknow's last chapter for this piece.   
> Leaving it to FlyingFishWithFur to kill everyone. Blame her for the feels :)


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